Wrapping one hand halfway around my neck, he presses his icy thumb into the hollow at the base of my throat. I want to run but fear paralyzes me. And something else, too. Fascination.

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Goodbye, McSheff

We lost a coworker this week. Early fifties. Heart attack. Seemed healthy and fit. A cheerful, optimistic, energetic person. He broke all the death rules, damn it. His passing has reminded us that sometimes, no matter how many safeguards you carefully stack in place, when your time’s up, it’s up.

He was always smiling and cracking jokes. Ready to spring into action immediately if you had a tech problem. His students pay him the ultimate teacher compliment. “He made history interesting.” (History is interesting, duh. But that’s beside the point.) So, then, what is the point?

I guess the point is that he’s gone. His humor and cheerfully flaunted weirdness. His goodwill and helpfulness. His classroom is right above mine and sometimes it sounded like a herd of elephants was performing gymnastic stunts up there. I’m going to miss that noise.